October 2014

Valueless: The Myth of Fair Price

by Changming Yuan

Everything, everybody Used to And still may Have a value; only Only each has depreciated Into a price That keeps fluctuating violently Against no value

Earth

byCraig Kurtz

“I don’t believe in love,” she once said but I will right that wrong. I will love her like a daughter, I will love her like a son; I will love her airborne and I will love her corporal; in peace, without release as if she were the final drop of water on the earth. She is my earth, and my fertile faith.

Single

by Tuwond Bernard

Look at me without you, look at me without you, look at me without you, I’m quite proud of myself.

Tonight indicates the start of a beautiful freedom. Play it again Sam, “Casablanca” turns my life black and white for a few hours.

The credits roll and color returns still feeling reserved but stronger. She’s out of my life and that’s okay. Perseverance past pain prevails.

Time for solitary slumber, sleep the night off and wake up from this nightmare with infused spirits of hope and change.

Untitled

by Sam Cho

Maybe it is lonelier where stars can kiss you where there is no difference between a shooting star or incoming floating debris; where the gravity of the Oceans cannot see you anymore their eyes veiled by clouds that look more like wisps than cotton of shades

There, the need of the Lungs override blood in the heart or thoughts in the brain [umbilical suits] We could fall– but never quick enough to find out that there is nothing to find on the Moon except the sight of where we should be –and if we are like astronauts we shall learn to let go

of Oxygen and of Breaths to breathe with our pumping hearts

Ecstasy’s Grenade

by Gabrielle Okun

Oh! the moonlit gaze of the twirling days The lights, the smiles, the effervescent glow It’s all my body ever wants to know The ecstasy- the pinks, the purples, the vibrant red The music of my starlit bed The concert- violin’s moan as the earth erupts Robin’s will chirp as the raven will crow All together by Cupid ’s bow Still… We fear the lonesome roar of my souls galore Like- The twinkling mermaid in that gray sea of sharks Oh! The wind’s brigade on maze’s grenade The leaves are green not brown But…. Heavy cigarette smokes the wind which blows the letter of your heart Into my compliance

Somebody Told Me

by Brandon Douglass Somebody told melove is a moss running wild and freeon a butterflies' bottom lip.Somebody told meevery midnight sharp a secret choir of roly-poly faced monksgather to chant acquiescent blessingsfor all the broken-hearted brancheswho fell from yesterdays trees.I do not know wellthe old religious prayersmy Grandfather recites,so eloquently and true,in these his final years;Long after youth has becomejust another foreign landhe once visited;His accomplishments reduced to pill regimens,shallow breathing and bible readings.Somebody told mewisdom is 'the art of listening';An opening of the heartwhen Grandfathers speak about a holy ghostwho walked the desert (forty days & nights)or when robed monks bellow the praises of a million dead limbs beneath an orange moon. Somebody told methe meaning of life sleepsinside the garden of a woman, one painted by the fingertips of G-d,whose kisses command horizons to crumble,whose irresistible bliss makes entire religions blush at the mere mention of her name.

Poehemian: a poet or artist who does not adhere to the norm; a bohemian of poetry or art; a poet or artist who is quite possibly (subconsciously or consciously) inspired by the great Edgar Allan Poe.

"With me poetry has not been a purpose, but a passion." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Those who dream by day are cognizant of many things that escape those who dream only at night." -Edgar Allan Poe

"All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Experience has shown, and a true philosophy will always show, that a vast, perhaps the larger portion of the truth arises from the seemingly irrelevant." -Edgar Allan Poe

"The death of a beautiful woman, is unquestionably the most poetical topic in the world." -Edgar Allan Poe

"The true genius shudders at incompleteness - and usually prefers silence to saying something which is not everything it should be." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Science has not yet taught us if madness is or is not the sublimity of the intelligence." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Were I called on to define, very briefly, the term Art, I should call it 'the reproduction of what the Senses perceive in Nature through the veil of the soul.' The mere imitation, however accurate, of what is in Nature, entitles no man to the sacred name of 'Artist.'" -Edgar Allan Poe

"It is by no means an irrational fancy that, in a future existence, we shall look upon what we think our present existence, as a dream." -Edgar Allan Poe

"There is an eloquence in true enthusiasm." -Edgar Allan Poe

"I would define, in brief, the poetry of words as the rhythmical creation of Beauty." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Never to suffer would never to have been blessed." -Edgar Allan Poe

"It may well be doubted whether human ingenuity can construct an enigma... which human ingenuity may not, by proper application, resolve." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Years of love have been forgot, In the hatred of a minute." -Edgar Allan Poe

"And all my days are trances, And all my nightly dreams, Are where thy dark eye glances, And where thy footstep gleams -- In what ethereal dances, By what eternal streams." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December; And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Can it be fancied that Deity ever vindictively, Made in his image a mannikin merely to madden it?"

"The most natural, and, consequently, the truest and most intense of the human affections are those which arise in the heart as if by electric sympathy." -Edgar Allan Poe

"The customs of the world are so many conventional follies." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Either the memory of past bliss is the anguish of to-day, or the agonies which are have their origin in the ecstasies which might have been." -Edgar Allan Poe

"Men have called me mad; but the question is not yet settled, whether madness is or is not the loftiest intelligence— whether much that is glorious— whether all that is profound— does not spring from disease of thought— from moods of mind exalted at the expense of the general intellect." -Edgar Allan Poe

"The realities of the world affected me as visions, and as visions only, while the wild ideas of the land of dreams became, in turn,—not the material of my every-day existence-- but in very deed that existence utterly and solely in itself." -Edgar Allan Poe